


like a breath of midnight air

by rosieeexox



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M, and a waiter, but theres lots of pining and angst, harry is a bartender, louis is a librarian, niall is irish, theres no smut (sorry), zayn is an artist and liam is his muse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:05:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3663222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosieeexox/pseuds/rosieeexox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is growing up sort of and he lives alone and Harry works at a hidden bar that not many people go to. Harry is just kind of around and wise while Louis is all over the place trying to figure out what to do with his life. He goes to Harry’s bars most nights and sits and rants about his problems and Harry is quiet and collected and always very helpful. Also he’s charming and has a great smile and good hair. They become friends and Harry comes over to play video games and watch movies and Louis is introduced to Zayn who is Harry’s friend and an artist and Louis introduces Harry to Niall and Liam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like a breath of midnight air

**Author's Note:**

  * For [terminaltongues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/terminaltongues/gifts).



> okay so I'm fulfilling this prompt for terminaltongues :) I'm really excited and nervous cause I've never done a fic exchange before so hopefully this fic is everything you've ever wanted.

Louis moved to London when he was 18, convinced he could do better on his own than he ever could with either of his newly divorced parents. His mum had taken the girls in the divorce, and since Louis was legally an adult, he wasn't obligated to live with either of them. So he packed his bags and took the train out to London and never looked back. Now, at 23, he's a librarian by day and a waiter by night and he sort of really hates his life.

It's become routine, really. He works at the bookstore from 9 to 5 during the week, orders takeout and then goes to bed. On Friday nights he'll rent a movie and cuddle up next to Liam or Niall. He gets to sleep in on the weekends and, honestly, that's probably what makes it all worth it. On Saturday nights at about 8, he goes into work at a fancy new restaurant where he waits tables with a plastered on smile. The restaurant stays open later than most, which is how Louis found the Sloppy Pirate, a little hole in the wall bar stuck between a bakery and a three story apartment building. Louis found it one day while walking home after a rough night at work, needing a drink more than anything; and that's where it all starts, really.

* * *

 

"Harry, mate, you gotta go wait table 7." Zayn says with a smile, but Harry just waves him off.

"You know I only work the bar." He replies, taking Zayn's drink orders.

"I _know_ that, but there's a fit boy who's just sat down and he's your type down to a T." Zayn encourages. His smile looks more like a smirk, Harry realizes, and he almost considers it. 

Harry places the newly made drinks on Zayn's tray and shoos him away. "Get back to work, you're slacking off." 

"Your loss, mate. I don't really go for the short, curvy type, but I might make an exception for this one." Zayn winks. Harry flips him off and turns his attention to a tall blonde girl waving him down at the end of the bar. And he totally doesn't try and see through the crowd at whoever's sitting at table 7.

Harry and Zayn opened the bar a few months ago after moving to London so Harry could pursue music and Zayn could find inspiration to paint. At the time, it just made sense to buy the small space directly next to their apartment building. They planned to use it to make a little extra money, but Harry realized his knack for bartending and now him and Zayn work there full time. 

"Here's your Smurf Fart," He says it so nonchalant that Louis can't help but chuckle. "Would you like anything else?" The waiter asks, and Louis debates on throwing out a cheesy one liner about how he wouldn't mind being fucked in the toilets, but he decides against it. The guy is hot, sue him.

"No thanks." Is what he goes for instead, sipping the drink. He totally doesn't check out the guy's ass, Zayn the name tag read, as he walks away.

"Honestly, Haz," Zayn sighs, "I've never seen someone look attractive ordering something called a 'Smurf Fart' can you at least go check out what he looks like so you can tell me I'm right about him being your type."

"Fine." Harry sighs abandoning the bar. They're not busy tonight anyway. "I'll pretend I'm going to clean the toilets and I'll have a look."

Zayn cheers in silent victory as he watches Harry approach the table, and then again when he sees the look on Harry's face once he acknowledges that Zayn was indeed very correct.

"So?" Zayn questions like he doesn't already know the answer.

"Alright, you were right." Harry sighs. "How have I never noticed him before?"

"Dunno, he comes in every Saturday and Sunday, orders one of your stupidly named drinks of the day and then leaves."

Harry smirks as he wipes down the bar, already forming a plan in his mind.

* * *

The following weekend, Louis finds himself at the same table, giggling out his drink order. "I'll have the Anus Burner, although I'm afraid to ask what's in it."

"Tequila and hot sauce, mostly." 

"Mostly?" Louis asks, eyebrow raised. "You wouldn't happen to be withholding information about my choice beverage, would you, Zayn?"

"No, I was mostly just looking forward to the surprise on your face when you saw the jalapeño pepper." 

Louis' eyes widen but he orders the drink nonetheless.

When Zayn returns with his drink, he eyes the glass warily. "Who even comes up with these drinks?"

"That would be Harry." Zayn smiles knowingly. "He's over at the bar."

Louis watches Zayn leave suspiciously and takes a sip of his drink. His eyes water between the burn of the tequila and the hotness of the pepper. 

It takes his longer than usual to finish his drink, half because of the taste but also because he finally has a reason to approach the attractive bartender he's been eyeing since he found this place and he has no idea what to say.

"I think tonight's the night, Haz." Zayn whispers after collecting Louis' empty glass. He laughs at the way Harry noticeably stiffens.

"Are you sure? Why? Did he say something?"

"Relax, Harry. He asked who comes up with the names and I told him where to find you."

Before Harry can respond he notices Louis walking towards the bar. He barely registers Zayn patting him on the shoulder before Louis has reached the bar. The first thing Harry notices is that he has to jump up slightly in order to sit on the barstool. The second is that his eyes are impossibly bluer up close. He realizes Louis is talking to him, and his eyes jump to the smaller boys lips to make out the words over the music.

"So you're the anus burner?"

And...okay.

"Shit, I mean, you're the one who made the anus burner, right?" Louis laughs and Harry's stomach dips. "That doesn't sound much better, does it?"

Harry shakes his head, smiling. "I'm Harry." 

"Louis."

There's a beat of silence before Louis picks a cherry out of the jar on the counter and pops it in his mouth, pulling off the stem. "So how do you come up with the names?"

Harry registers very slowly that Louis had actually asked him a question, too transfixed on the bit of red the cherry left on his lip.

"Sorry, what?"

Louis smirks, the bastard. 

"I asked how you come up with the names of the drinks."

"Oh, uh, I just throw a bunch of stuff together and try to think of something clever."

"What's on the menu for tomorrow?"

"Well its between The Angry German and a Pap Smear"

Louis let's out a surprised laugh. "So that's what I'm missing during the week, then?"

Harry giggles. 

"Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead, Curly."

"Why do you never sit at the bar?"

"Well I just might, now." Louis says with a wink. "But I've got to be off, now. Work tomorrow, bright and early." And before Harry can respond, Louis is out of ear shot and then out the door. Harry does, however, get a nice glimpse of his bum on the way out and totally doesn't think about it the rest of the night.

* * *

"My life is over!" Louis shouts dramatically, throwing himself down on the couch next to Liam who doesn't even look up from his phone. 

"Why's that, Lou?" Niall asks from the kitchen, while Liam sighs.

"I'm glad you asked, _Niall_." Louis huffs, shooting a look at Liam, who's still not looking at him. "Remember how I told you I finally talked to the hot bartender? Well I told him that I'd sit at the bar now to order my drinks and I'm meant to go there tonight after work."

The only response is the sound of Niall chewing.

"You lot are useless!" Louis sighs, getting up and making his way to his bedroom.

He's known Liam and Niall since he moved to London and took over the empty bedroom in their flat and they clicked pretty instantly. That said, they're absolutely useless when it comes to giving boy advice. Liam, because he's only ever had one boyfriend, and middle school hardly counts. And Niall, because, well, he's straight and snogs anything that walks.

He gets ready for work, putting on his usual black jeans and white button up, and he totally doesn't spend and extra 20 minutes on his hair before walking out the door to the sound of Niall wishing him luck.

Work is especially awful tonight, and Louis notices within the first hour of being there. They're training a new cook so the food is being brought out slower and apparently Louis has gotten all the snobby customers. The only bright side is that he's completely forgotten his nerves on going to the bar afterwards until the cold night air is whipping at his face.

"Shit." He mutters as reaches the Sloppy Pirate and pulls the door open.

Harry comes to take his order within seconds and he realizes he forgot to check the board outside for the drink of the day.

"Shit, mate. I forgot to check what you came up with for today, but I'll have that and two shots of tequila."

"Rough day?" Harry asks, and his eyes look so genuinely concerned that Louis can't help but feel better already. He returns no more than minute later with Louis' drinks. 

"Here's your Tequila Mockingbird and two shots of tequila." Harry says slowly, like he's not sure Louis really thought about his order.

"Tonight should be interesting." Louis says with a laugh, downing the two shots.

It's over an hour later and really, Harry shouldn't have asked, but Louis looked so run down when he sat at the bar that he wanted to know about Louis day. But now it's late and Louis is still here stumbling through a rant about the terrible customers he had to deal with and Harry is too endeared to kick him out. Because Louis is different than the other late night customers they usually get. He's not creepy or dirty or homeless. He's loud and funny and _loud_ and so, so fit. And his eyes get really bright when he gets to talking about something he's passionate about and wow, Harry really needs stop.

"And to top it all off," Louis slurs, raising his fifth shot of the night and downing it. "I haven't gotten laid in almost a year."

Harry chokes on his response and Louis must take it as laughter because he narrows his eyes and leans forward. "Don't laugh at me, Curly. We can't all have dimples."

Harry's not quite sure what his dimples have to do with anything but he feels the need to clarify whatever Louis is insinuating. 

"I'm right there with you, mate. Been a while for me, too." Louis scoffs.

"Really!" Harry says, putting his hands up in his defense. 

"If you say so." Louis shrugs. "Tell me, what drink am I ordering tomorrow?"

Harry shrugs. "Haven't thought of a name yet."

"Make it for me! I'll try it and come up with something great." And Harry really has to struggle to figure out exactly what Louis is saying, mainly because he talks too fast, but also because the alcohol is definitely taking its toll on his motor skills.

"I think you've had enough, babe. How about I just tell you what's in it?"

"Fine, mum." Louis says, crossing his arms and sticking his tongue out. And Harry doesn't find it endearing. He really doesn't. 

"Alright well it's blue raspberry vodka, coconut rum, and blue curacao on the rocks."

"So it's blue?" Louis asks. Harry nods and Louis's face goes form concentrated to smirking. "Blue balls."

Harry laughs and Louis' head feels fuzzy. "I think I'll keep you around, Louis."

"I should hope so, Harrison." Harry laughs again instead of correcting him. He'd let Louis call him just about anything at this point.

Louis watches as Harry serves the other people at the bar and fills Zayn's trays with orders. He's genuinely impressed by how easily people seem to like him. Harry comes by to check on him every few minutes, either to refill his glass of water, or to share a quick story about one of the other people at the bar. The stories usually have Louis laughing too loudly and attracting the attention of said person, but if it makes Harry slap a hand over his mouth, Louis doesn't really mind.

"Liam's here to pick me up." Louis announces later, after Harry is done wiping down the bar. Besides Zayn who keeps disappearing into what Louis assumes to be the kitchen, they're the only other people at the bar. 

"Alright," Harry smiles. "D'you need me to walk you out?"

"I've got it, Curly. See you and your blue balls tomorrow!" He calls behind him and _really, Tomlinson? Not your smoothest exit._

"Have a good time?" Liam asks once Louis is fully situated in the car.

Louis groans. "Tequila, Liam."

Liam laughs as if he understand and the next thing Louis knows he's in his bed and asleep almost instantly. 

* * *

"Alright, so tell me again," Louis is talking excitedly, bouncing on his toes and Harry lays the bottles of liquor out in front of him. They're slow today so he's had Harry's full attention all night. Currently, Louis is behind the bar while Harry tries to teach him how to make Blue Balls and honestly, Louis should be given a medal for not making a single crude comment.

"You just pour the three things into the shaker, put the top on, and shake it."

His hands are too small to hold it with just one hand, so he has to hold the shaker on each side. As opposed to Harry, who easily fits the shaker in one hand. Not that Louis noticed.

After Louis pours the drink into the glass filled with ice he eyes it warily. "You try it first."

Harry laughs and brings the straw to his mouth. "Not bad." He says confidently, handing the glass to Louis. He takes a sip and his eyes widen.

"It's good! I'm a professional. I reckon I could take your job, probably."

Harry pats him on the head. "'Course you could, Lou."

"Don't patronize me, Harold. Respect your elders!"

"You're only two years older than me and I've got a few more inches on you to make up for it."

Louis bites back a comment about dick sizes and instead narrows his eyes and takes another sip of his drink.

"So, Harry. Tell me more about yourself." Louis says once he's made his way back to the other side of the bar and taken a seat.

"What d'you wanna know?"

Louis thinks it over for a second. "Everything."

"Well I moved to London about a year ago with Zayn. Before that I lived in Holmes Chapel. Me and Zayn went to school together there after he moved from Bradford. I've got an older sister Gemma who goes to school at Kings College, so it's just my mum and dad back home. I came here to perform my music but I've gotten a bit distracted and haven't felt like picking it back up."

"You sing?" Louis asks, his interest overtly obvious.

"And play guitar and piano, yeah." Harry blushes. "What about you, Lou?"

"I can't play any instruments."

Harry laughs and it makes Louis feel like he's flying. "You know what I mean."

"Well, Harold, if you must know. I moved to London when I was 18 after my parents got divorced. My mum got custody of my sisters and I'd rather live alone than with either of my parents, so I used all the money I'd been saving to rent a flat. I work at Benny's Bookstore during the week cause I'm hoping to save up enough to take Theatre classes one day. And you know all about my shit restaurant job. I'm also apparently a great bartender, I like long walks on the beach, getting caught in the rain, piña coladas, and all that."

Louis nods to signal that he's done and Harry just. He hears Louis complain about how he doesn't have his life together _all_ the time, but he _does_. Harry tells him so.

"Thanks, but I really don't." Louis scoffs. "Anyway, it's bedtime for me. I'll see you next week!" Louis hops down from the barstool but Harry stops him before he gets very far.

"Louis, wait." Louis pauses, not turning around. "Let me walk you home."

Louis bites back a sarcastic remark about not needing a babysitter, but an extra few minutes with Harry doesn't seem so bad.

"Come on then!" Louis calls out to him before walking away at an exaggerated pace.

They walk home in a comfortable silence, their hands brushing together every few steps. It's cold, but it feels nice against Louis' face which hasn't cooled down since the first time his and Harry's hands touched.

Louis thinks back to the last first time he saw Harry. He had entered the bar and immediately sat at the booth farthest away. Zayn had taken his order and Louis had embarrassingly stuttered it out, momentarily brain dead by the way the light reflected off of Zayn's cheekbones. Louis will never admit it out loud, but he totally wanted to drop down on his knees in front of him. That is, until his eyes followed where Zayn was taking his order. Harry smiled as he took the paper from Zayn and Louis' entire body melted. Even from far away, Louis could tell Harry was beautiful. The way his whole face lit up when he smiled, or how he kept fixing his fringe every time a few curls fell into his face. And now, close up, Louis can tell he had no idea just how beautiful Harry truly was. I mean, he has a dimple for gods sake. Louis is so, so fucked.

"What're you smiling about?" Harry asks, breaking him out of his reverie.

Louis blushes. "Nothing."

"Well I've got no idea where you live, so." Harry trails off. And it's then that Louis realizes they've passed his complex.

"I live a block back, actually." Louis mumbles, his blush deepening. 

Harry just laughs, swinging himself around dramatically and linking their arms together. They walk like that all the way up the stairs to Louis' front door.

"Thank you, dear Harold for walking me back."

"S'no problem." Harry replies, his eyes trained on the ground while he stuffs his hands in his back pockets.

Louis turns to unlock the door when he hears Harry inhale as if he's going to say something.

"You've got your life together, Lou. You're not as fucked as you think."

He turns to ruffle Harry's hair before going inside.

_You're not as fucked as you think._

"Yeah, right." Louis sighs.

* * *

After pointedly not thinking about Harry in the shower the next morning, Louis makes his way to the bookstore only to find it closed. He digs his phone out of his pocket with a confused look and dials Barry's number.

"Louis! How're you?"

"Fine," Louis laughs nervously. "It's just, uh, I'm at the store and its, uhm-"

"Did Josh forget to tell you? That kid, I swear. I'd fire him if he wasn't my nephew!" Barry laughs heartily. "We're closed for the week, got a family reunion up in Glasgow, decided to make a holiday of it!"

"Oh! Well enjoy that!" Louis replies excitedly. 

"Enjoy your week off, Louis." Barry responds, ending the call.

Louis walks home and falls straight to bed. Stopping only to inform Liam and Niall not to wake him before four.

He wakes up at five, confused but blissfully rested. He puts on a pair of skinny jeans and the cleanest t-shirt he can find and heads out. 

"Going for drinks!" He informs his friends, not bothering to wait for their response.

He walks into the bar the happiest he's ever been, probably.

"I am a new man today, Harold. Fetch me a beer!"

"Louis, what're you doing here? It's a Monday." Harry asks slowly. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine! Everything is grand!" Louis replies dramatically.

"What's he on about? And why is he here on a Monday?" Zayn asks, reaching over the bar to give Harry several drink orders.

"He's a new man, apparently." Harry mocks.

"I'm right here, lads." Louis shouts, sipping the beer Harry's just places in front of him. "I'll have you know that Barry's Bookstore is closed for the week and I officially have no responsibilities until Saturday. Also this beer is awful, I'll have a Sex With an Alligator, although that sounds quite unpleasant."

Harry laughs and fills Louis' drink order before the several Zayn just handed him and it doesn't mean anything, really.

Several drinks later, Louis realizes he has nothing to do until Saturday, and his drunk self apparently finds that very tragic.

"What am I supposed to do for five days? I'll have to read a book with Liam, or go bowling with Niall. This is awful, why was I ever excited about this?" Louis sighs, throwing his head into his hands.

"You could come by mine and Zayn's and play FIFA." Harry suggests it so nonchalantly that Louis almost forgets they've never really hungout outside of the bar.

"A man after my own heart, you are." Louis coons. "Shall I bring my terribly boring flatmates as well?"

"Sure! They more the merrier!" Harry beams.

It's only after Louis gets home later that night that he realizes he's going to be spending all day tomorrow in Harry's flat. With Harry. And his friends. And Zayn. Shit.

* * *

"Okay guys remember," Louis prompts for the thousandth time. "No embarrassing stories, no rude jokes, and absolutely no mention of my feelings for Harry, got it?"

"Wow, Lou, why don't we just not speak at all?" Niall teases.

"Brilliant!" Louis cheers sarcastically, knocking on the door. Louis had thought Harry was joking when he said he lived next door to the bar, but evidently he was not. They're apartment complex is quite literally next door.

Harry answers with a blinding smile and before Louis can say anything Niall is shaking Harry's hand and introducing himself. "Hi, I'm Niall, you must be Harry. Nice to meet you! Louis wet the bed until he was ten and his mother called him 'Boobear.'"

Louis rolls his eyes and pretends not to blush as he comes up with a dozen different ways to kill Niall in his sleep. 

"I'm Liam and Niall's probably already drunk, so ignore him." 

"I heard that!" Niall calls from somewhere inside the flat and honestly, thank god for Liam.

"Harry." Louis says with a nod, his face probably still red.

"Louis." Harry laughs, his smile even brighter.

They walk through the flat together and Louis finds his friends piled on the couch next to Zayn and a pretty brunette. 

"Hi, I'm Emily. You must be Louis." She smiles. "I've heard _loads_ about you." And Louis doesn't miss the way Harry practically shoves her away.

Louis is pleasantly surprised how easily Liam and Zayn hit it off. They insisted on teaming up against Louis and Harry after the first round and Louis is only slightly jealous at how quickly they seem to cuddle up. They decide to order pizza and Louis feels his whole body flush when he sees Liam and Zayn squish together on the arm chair to share a box. He looks over at Harry who's already staring at him so he smiles like he doesn't wish it were just the two of them. Harry smiles back through a mouthful of pizza and Louis is totally not enamored by it.

The thing is, Louis is almost positive Harry isn't interested in him. Especially since the more time he spends with him, the more he notices that Harry treats everyone like they're the only one in the room. Louis used to get butterflies every time Harry trained his eyes on him while he told a story. But now he just feels little flickers of false hope.

Several rounds of FIFA and way too many pizza's later, Niall announces that he's got to get going as he gets a phone call. Harry and Zayn follow them to the door, Niall already halfway down the stairs talking loudly on the phone.

"Liam!" Zayn calls out just as the two boys turn to leave. "Could I, uh, maybe get your number? And, you know, like, we could go on a date or something?"

Louis has never seen Liam's face turn such a bright red and it would've made him laugh if Harry wasn't awkwardly standing there watching the exchange instead of looking at Louis.

The short walk back to the flat is filled with Liam going on about Zayn, Niall yelling on the phone, and Louis trying not to puke on the sidewalk. I mean, it's not like Louis thought Harry was into him, but having that be confirmed while Zayn asked out his best friend was not ideal. Whatever.

* * *

Louis doesn't go back to the Sloppy Pirate until Saturday night after work. He spent the rest of the week avoiding listening to Liam drool on and on about Zayn and curled up in his bed with cartons of ice cream and his favorite chick flicks, trying to convince himself that he doesn't actually like Harry Styles. He's a cliché, sue him.

As soon as Louis enters the bar, though, he realizes that pretending nothing is wrong is going to be surprisingly easy. It's not awkward because Harry has no idea Louis actually has feelings for him and, therefore, has no idea Louis spent the rest of the week wallowing in self pity. 

"Hey, Lou, what can I get for you?" Harry asks, smirking.  


"As if you don't already know." Louis replies pretentiously.

"Just wanna hear you say it."

And..okay.

It didn't pass Louis by that the drink of the day was called Suck, Bang & Blow. But Harry wanting to hear him say it? That's...interesting.

Without missing a beat, Louis hops up on the barstool and leans forward on his elbows.

He puts on his best bedroom eyes and locks them with Harry's. "I'll have a suck, a bang and a blow, Harry." He notices the taller boys swallow rather hard so he adds a seductive little "Please." as an afterthought. 

Harry just nods quickly as he pours the dozen or so ingredients into the blender. Louis smiles in a tiny victory. Maybe he has a shot after all.

"So how was your week off? You didn't come by again." Harry says, seemingly finding his cool again as he places the very large drink in front of Louis.

"Yeah, met up with some friends, mostly." Louis lies. "Why? Did you miss me?"

"Always." Harry teases, poking Louis' nose before skipping away to help another customer. 

The drink turns out to be as deadly as it sounds because Louis is quite drunk after finishing his off. He must play it off well because Harry still serves him several shots afterwards as well. He's rambling on about how awful it is to listen to Liam wax poetic about Zayn's cheekbones on a daily basis; half because he wants Harry to feel bad for him, and half because it really is awful. It's only when he decides to leave that he truly realizes how drunk he actually is, gripping the bar for dear life to steady himself.

"Alright there, Lou?" Harry asks, a concerned smile on his face. Louis wants to poke his dimple. So he does.

"I'm perfectly fine, dimply Harry." Louis says to what he thinks is the right Harry. Who knows, really, there are three of him.

"Let me walk you home." Harry says, signaling to one of the other bartenders to take over.

Louis sighs. "If you must." He says in mock annoyance. Secretly, though, he's glad. Because he's not quite sure where he lives at the moment.

"There was a lot of alcohol in that drink." Louis slurs once they're outside.

"I think you're just getting old, Lou."

Louis gasps in offense and hits his arm against Harry's. He misses, of course, and stumbles into him instead. Harry steadies him with an arm around his shoulder, and they walk like that back to Louis' flat. After a minute of Louis trying to get his key in the door, Harry finally lets them both inside and steers Louis towards his bedroom.

"Tuck me in." Louis mumbles, stripping down to his boxers and crawling into bed.

"Okay." Harry says softly, pulling the blanket up to Louis' shoulders and tucking them underneath.

"Like a burrito." Louis demands childishly.

Harry chuckles, but continues to tuck the blanket underneath Louis. He's just tucked the blanket under Louis's back when his breath hitches. It's not that he's never noticed how fit Louis is, cause he has, plenty of times. He's just never _felt_ it. He tucks the blanket under Louis' bum softly and has to stifle a groan.

 _Get a grip, Styles. He's not into you so quit being creepy and feeling up his bum while he's half unconscious._  

"All done." Harry whispers, adjusting himself. "Goodnight, Louis."

"No, stay." Louis whines. 

"D'you want me to go sleep on the couch?"

"No, spoon."

"But I just tucked you in!" Harry whispers, faking annoyance. He's already slipping in bed behind Louis as the smaller boy replies.

"Goodnight, spoon Harry."

"Goodnight, burrito Louis." Harry smiles, suppressing a laugh.

Hours after Louis is asleep, Harry lays awake, his arm thrown over Louis' bare waist, heart beating loudly in his chest. He eventually falls asleep, though, and the two of them subconsciously move impossibly closer together throughout the night. 

* * *

Louis wakes up the next morning feeling like a train ran him over. And a bus. And a car. It takes him a few minutes to fully open his eyes and realize there's a plate full of breakfast on his nightside table with a note.

_Had to run to the bar to unload the shipment truck. Text me when you wake up. xx H_

Louis' eyes widen in horror as last night floods back to him. He barely makes it to the toilet in time.

A few hours later, after chugging several glasses of water and taking a much needed nap, Louis wakes up feeling good as new. Well, almost. He eyes the breakfast on the nightstand suspiciously before grabbing the plate. He loads up the fork with a bit of stir fry and almost moans at how good it is. Cold, even. Harry made him _breakfast_. Louis sighs as he puts the empty plate in the sink and tries not to think about what that means.

_Damn you, Harry Styles._

If Louis was smart, he would have gone home after work. But here he is, sitting at the bar, sipping on his third Legspreader. They're extremely busy tonight, which is weird for a Sunday. Something about a big game on or something. Harry's been pretty busy and the bar's been awfully crowded, which is why Louis decided to carry his drink over to his usual booth. Zayn checks up on him a few minutes later and Louis is definitely drunk.

"You alright, Louis?"

"Course, Zayn! Although I could be a bit better if you and Liam weren't so disgusting." He laughs so Zayn knows he's kidding.

"Sorry, mate." Zayn says, blushing.

Not a minute after Zayn's departure, Louis hears an unmistakable laugh and cranes his neck towards the bar. He spots Niall instantly, pressed up against the bar talking to Harry. He checks again a few minutes later and Harry is laughing at something Niall said. Then, his view is blocked by a tall boy with a mess of brown hair, though Louis notices it's straight, _not_ curly.

"Do you want to dance?"

Louis hesitates for a moment, eyes flicking to the bar where Harry is occupied with another customer, looking completely enthralled by whatever they're saying.

"Sure. I'm Louis."

"Kevin." The boy smiles.

He follows the boy to the small dance floor and when he turns around to verify with Louis the spot he's chosen to dance in, Louis notices his eyes are green and his heart jumps.

"Perfect." Louis mouths and turns around to press his back against the boys front and realizes he has a very clear visual on the bar, specifically Harry. He closes his eyes and focuses on Kevin's hands. They're pressed against his hips, keeping their bodies together as Louis moves to the music.

"You're so hot." Kevin whispers, his breath hot on Louis' neck. His voice isn't deep or gravely so Louis just clenches his eyes tighter and focuses on the music.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" Kevin asks after the third song ends. Louis just nods and follows him out, not braving a look at the bar before he's out the door. 

Kevin's grip is tight on Louis' waist as they make their way to Louis' flat. He's somewhat thankful because he's pretty sure he'd be falling over otherwise. When they reach his building, Louis spares a look at the boy. Kevin's eyes are locked on him and his stomach drops when he realizes his eyes are the wrong shade of green. They're too dark and his hair is too floppy and Louis just can't.

"I'm..I'm sorry." Louis stutters. "I can't. I can't do this. I'm sorry."

Kevin doesn't respond. Just throws his hand up in the air and mutters a "You've got to be fucking kidding me." under his breath as he walks away.

Louis lets himself into his building and solemnly makes his way up the stairs. He flops down into bed and is asleep before his head hits the pillow.

Back at the bar, Harry is on autopilot. Ever since Louis left with a boy in tow he hasn't been able to focus. He fucked up three drinks, and by the fourth Zayn took over and told him to go home. 

"I got the bar, Haz. Just go home and clear your head."

Harry flops down onto his bed and only has time for one thought before he falls asleep and that thought is  _Fuck Louis Tomlinson._

* * *

By Wednesday, Louis realizes somethings up. Zayn hasn't been by the apartment which is weird because he practically lives there.

He decides to go to the bar with Niall, because if there's any way to find out what's going on with Zayn and Liam, it's by getting drunk and blatantly asking about it. However, Louis is disappointed to find that Zayn isn't working. Maybe he's sick or something.

Louis and Niall take a seat at the bar and Harry looks at Niall, expectantly awaiting his order.

"Gimme like, five shots of tequila."

Harry nods and turns to pour out Niall's order without sparing a glance at Louis. When he returns he has five shots of tequila and an orange drink with cherries in it. Louis smiles to himself, forcing his previous nerves that Harry wasn't speaking to him. His smile disappears, though, when Harry doesn't look at him as he places the drinks in front of Niall. Louis gives Niall an alarming and confused look, but Niall just shrugs and turns to Harry.

"Where's Zayn?" Niall asks him.

Harry's face immediately lights up. "He's been locked in his room all week with Liam, something about painting. I didn't really wanna know."

The two of them share a laugh and just as Louis opens his mouth to speak, Harry's down the bar helping a middle aged woman with far too much eyeshadow.

Louis grabs three of Nialls' shots, downs them, takes a sip of his drink, and then leaves. He goes straight to his room where he chugs approximately five shots of vodka before falling asleep clutching the pillow that no longer smells like Harry. He falls asleep with only one thing on his mind.  _Fuck Harry Styles._

He's woken up two hours later by Niall, who reeks of tequila.

"Looooooouis." He coos, shaking Louis roughly.

"What d'you want, Niall?"

"Harry was being mopey and now you're being mopey and I just wanna drink and have fun."

Louis sits up and _wow_ is he drunk. "Why was Harry mopey?"

"Probably because you didn't talk to him." Niall mumbles before leaving Louis alone in his room.

Harry's moping because Louis didn't talk to him, Louis is moping because Harry didn't talk to him.

 _This is all so stupid._ Louis thinks, pulling out his phone. He pulls up Harry's contact and types out a quick message. Ignoring the fact that neither of them have texted each other since Friday.

_comE ove r need burrito xxxxxxx_

It's several hours later when Louis can no longer stay awake waiting for a response he knows isn't coming that he finally lets himself fall asleep, clutching his phone to his chest just in case. 

He wakes up way too few hours later to a pounding headache and the sun streaming in through the window. He unlocks his phone and the screen goes straight to his and Harry's conversation, his most recent message causing him a pang of embarrassment. Louis laughs nervously to himself as he types out another message.

_Wanna grab lunch at the bakery next door? Srry about last night ha xx_

Harry doesn't answer by the time Louis has gotten ready but he heads to the bakery anyway. False hope and all that. He sits at the bakery for just about an hour, rationalizing every possible reason Harry hasn't shown up yet. Maybe he's still asleep, maybe he just hasn't checked his phone, maybe his entire building is being held captive by a giant flesh eating octopus. The possibilities are endless, so Harry not showing up doesn't necessarily mean Harry doesn't want to see him. Right?

Three scones and far too many cups of tea later, Louis realizes he's late for work and solemnly makes his way to the bookstore. However, not before checking the window of the Sloppy Pirate to see that Harry is indeed inside and not being held captive by a giant flesh eating octopus. Whatever. If Harry wants to ignore him, that's fine.

* * *

It's three weeks later and Louis hasn't been to the Sloppy Pirate since Harry ignored him and then stood him up. He's even taken a different route home from work on the weekends to avoid the temptation. Sober Louis is still mad that Harry isn't speaking to him, but Drunk Louis might grovel and beg for forgiveness for whatever it is that he did and he just can't risk having that, can he? 

Louis is getting ready for his shift at the bookstore when he notices Zayn in his living room. At first, he freezes, worried Harry might also be present. He noticeably relaxes when he sees that he isn't and plasters on a smile.

"Louis! Where've you been, mate? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!" Zayn laughs, pulling him into a hug.

"Could say the same for you! Last I heard you were locked away in your room with Liam." Louis says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Shut up. That was weeks ago. That's half of why I'm here, actually."

"Oh?" Louis asks, his heart quickens. _Does the other half have to do with Harry?_

Thankfully, Liam exits his room and joins them in the living room and Zayn is momentarily distracted. 

"Did you tell him?" Liam asks excitedly.

"Alright. Tell me what?"

"Zayn's painting got selected to be in an art show!"

Relief and pride fills Louis to the brim. "That's brilliant!"

"Yeah, we're having a few people over tonight to celebrate. You, Liam, and Niall are formally invited."

"Dunno if I can." Louis lies. "I've got work."

"Don't be stupid, it doesn't start til 9 and I'll be here to drag you out of the flat so don't bother making up excuses." Liam retorts.

"Fine, whatever. I've got to go to work. I'll see you later!" Louis calls out as he runs out the door. "Congrats again, Zayn!"

"See you later!" Zayn confirms. Louis' stomach tightens. He's going to Zayn's flat tonight. Zayn and _Harry's_ flat. Harry's going to be there. Louis wants to die.

Louis gets off work early and he thanks heaven for that because he decided while flitting around the bookstore that the only way to get back at Harry for blowing him off is to turn up at his flat looking hot as fuck. So that's exactly what he does.

Unfortunately, Louis finds out as soon as he enters his friends flat that Harry's gone and done the same thing. I mean, honestly, Louis' jaw practically drops to the floor when he spots him. His hair's up in a very stylish headscarf and he's decked in all black. His shirt is sheer, though, so Louis can still spot his tattoos underneath.

Naturally, Louis heads straight to the refreshment table and fills his cup with three parts vodka and one part soda. If he's gonna have to look at Harry fucking Styles all night, he's gonna at least do it drunk. After about his third cup, Louis joins the few people dancing in the living room and catches Harry staring at him. Harry doesn't look away like Louis was expecting him to and it makes him blush. The night continues like that; Louis is doing something and whenever he looks up, Harry is already staring at him. 

"I don't know if I'm just drunk," Louis whispers to Niall. "But I can't tell if Harry's looking at me angrily or welcomingly."

Niall just laughs in his face drunkenly and pats him on the shoulder as he walks away.

 _Well,_ Louis thinks. _That was wildly unhelpful._

"Having fun?" Zayn asks, breaking Harry out of his zoning out on Louis.

"Loads." Harry deadpans, lifting his cup to his lips.

"You could just talk to him, you know." Zayn suggests slowly. "Liam said Louis hasn't brought somebody home in ages so maybe it wasn't what it looked like."

"Doesn't matter." Harry shrugs. "Even if he _was_  interested in me, I've ignored him for a month now so he probably hates me by now."

"Won't know if you don't ask." Zayn sing songs before returning to Liam's side.

Louis has just peed for what feels like the thousandth time when he sees Harry standing alone on the balcony. He's just the right amount of drunk, he decides, to confront him about what a shit friend he's been.

"Mind if I join you?" He asks much more shyly than he'd like as he steps out onto the balcony. 

Harry doesn't turn around, but he noticeably stiffens.

They stand there in an awkward silence before Louis breaks it.

"You've been avoiding me." He says it plainly, like they were talking about the weather, and Harry laughs. It's not mean or malicious, it's tired and forced.

"Guess I have, haven't I?"

Louis leans up against the wall and tilts his head back, closing his eyes. "I don't know why, though. But I've forgiven you, I think. That, or I'm too drunk to remember how to be angry."

It all happens too fast, but suddenly Harry's lips are on his. Warm and wet, and they taste sweet like whiskey. And then, as suddenly as they came, they're gone. By the time Louis opens his eyes, so is Harry. A range of feelings burn through Louis' veins. Adrenaline, because Harry had just _kissed_ him. Confusion, because _Harry_ had just kissed him. And then anger, because Harry had just kissed him and then _ran away_.

Louis downs the rest of his drink and throws his cup to the side as he races through the house, ignoring the question glances from his friends. As soon as he reaches the sidewalk, he can see Harry about a block ahead of him. He stumbles along trying to catch up and thanks god that Harry is the slowest walker probably ever. 

"What're you doing, Louis?" Harry mutters once Louis has caught up and matched his pace.

"Can't let you walk around by yourself. S'not safe."

Harry doesn't answer, but he doesn't protest either, so Louis takes that as a good sign. They eventually reach Louis' place and Harry turns to face him.

"Aren't you going to go up?" Harry asks.

"I can't exactly let you walk home by yourself, can I?"

"Well if you walk me back then you have to walk all the way back here by yourself." Harry is smiling now and it feels like a victory.

"I'm staying over at yours, obviously." Louis replies confidently. Harry looks at him confused for a moment before kissing him again. It's messy and rough but so, so good. Louis steadies himself on the tips of his toes by placing his hands on Harry's waist. Harry's holding his face so securely, though, that he thinks he might stay up either way.

"Besides," Louis continues once they've broken apart and his heart beat returned to a normal pace. "The party's not even over."

"Back to my place, then." Harry laughs, shaking his head. Louis intertwines their fingers up until they re-enter the flat. He goes to pull away but Harry just tightens his grip. Louis gives him a questioning look.

"I've got you now, there's no way I'm letting go." He says dramatically, pulling Louis in towards his chest.

"You're a sap." Louis says, rolling his eyes, but on the inside his body is on fire.

Niall approaches them a few minutes later to inform them all he's leaving with "A gorgeous girl named Rosie with eyes like the sun." Whatever that means.

They spend the rest of the night sipping on mixed drinks and trying to come up with more creative names for them all the while practically sitting in each others laps on the couch.

As the party starts winding down, Louis finds Liam to let him know him and Harry are going to head back to their flat. Liam just smiles knowingly and squeezes Zayn's side.

"They bet on us, apparently." Harry mumbles into Louis' hair before pressing a kiss there. "I think Liam won. He said it'd happen at the party."

"Yeah?" Louis smiles. "What'd Zayn bet?" 

"That it'd happen at the bar."

"As if I'd jump you like that at the workplace!" Louis gasps in mock offense. "Clearly Zayn didn't account for the little dignity I have left."

"Clearly" Harry chuckles.

It takes them longer than necessary to make it back to Louis' flat, but that probably has to do with how many times they stopped to snog every time one of them nudges the other. When they do finally make it, however, they're both too tired to do much of anything besides kiss lazily until they fall asleep.

 _I could do this forever._ Louis thinks. But with the way Harry tightens his arms around him, he thinks he might've actually said it out loud.

And that's how Louis wakes up, his back pressed to Harry's chest, tucked under the taller boys chin. Harry's still fast asleep, so Louis turns to face him slowly, careful not to wake him. He takes in the way the light reflects off Harry's pale skin, the way goose pimples rise up wherever Louis touches him. And when Harry finally wakes up, Louis tries to permanently memorize how green his eyes are up close, and how plump his lips look while he's still pliant with sleep. 

Eventually, they get out of bed and grab breakfast before Louis has to go to work. Harry walks him there and kisses him at least a dozen times before he finally lets Louis go inside.

Later they'll discuss their feelings and realize how stupid they were all along. They'll discover how everyone else was completely annoyed by how obvious they were. Later, Louis and Zayn will switch flats and Niall will move in with his girlfriend, Rosie. Later, Zayn will open up his own art gallery and become a painter full-time. Later, Louis will quit both his jobs and work with Harry at the Sloppy Pirate where they'll argue about changing the name' mainly because Louis likes to get Harry riled up, but also because it really is an awful name. Later, Louis and Harry will adopt three kids and the five of them will alternate being the best men at each others weddings.

But that's all later.

Right now, all that matters is that Louis can still feel Harry's lips on his as the door closes behind him.

The rest can wait.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for much for reading! comments are super duper appreciated :)   
> tell me if you liked it or even if you hated it   
> any criticism, really  
> xxx


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